


No Leg to Stand On

by distant_rose



Series: Little Pirates [20]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Big Brother!Henry, Dad!Henry, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Pregnancy Scare, Sibling Bonding, big brother henry, references to swanfire, teenagers being idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distant_rose/pseuds/distant_rose
Summary: At sixteen, Beth Jones is gorgeous, intelligent, clever, witty and possibly the most talented swordsman of her generation. She might also be pregnant and in need of her big brother Henry to help her out.





	1. The Test

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I can’t believe I finish this thing in a day. This writing streak has been absurd. Like I have just felt an intense need to write all week and hopefully I won’t get burned out over the weekend. Anyway, this was…this one was tough. Though Killian and Emma aren’t be factors into this one, they are constantly brought up and discussed because issues. I think I’ve made some of my feelings about the how Neal Cassidy thing known in this own. So, yeah, some anti-Swanfire thoughts here. I’m really curious to see what you all think of the ending of this one. Questions, comments and concerns - find me on tumblr @ distant-rose.tumblr.com

It started with a phone call from his stepfather.

Henry Mills was sitting a Starbucks on his laptop after a lengthy conversation with his agent about starting a new book series. His latte (not well made and completely overpriced) had long since been finished, but he was looking to have a moment to himself before he went back home and packed up his and his daughter’s things for when their upcoming weekend visit with his parents. His phone lit up as Killian’s name flashed upon the screen. Henry glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer and frowned. It was Friday afternoon in late July and according to the forecast, it was sunny. Typically, Killian took the Jones crew out on the Jolly and wasn’t necessarily reachable by phone.

A hard feeling formed in Henry’s gut. Something was wrong. Where his mother could detect lies, Henry’s superpower was that he could predict trouble and some strange storm was brewing.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Henry picked up the call while ignoring the dirty looks he gets from the patrons around him. If they wanted peace and quiet, they should have gone to a real coffee shop. There were plenty in Portland.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Hello lad. I’m well. Yourself?” Killian greeted. His voice was a bit on the gruff side, but Henry attributed that more to his stepfather’s advancing age than any real stress.

Henry could not help but smile. He hadn’t been a ‘lad’ in years, but then again, at his age, everyone was probably a child to Killian. (Henry tried very hard not to think of the implications of that.)

“Just finished a Saturday meeting with my agent. She wants me to focus on something else aside from my  _Once_ series. I’ve been thinking about doing something in the same universe though. Might call this one  _Ever After_ , you know, to keep the fairytale theme to it,” Henry replied conversationally, leaning back in his seat.

“Thinking of writing about yourself rather than your mother?” Killian asked. If someone else had posed the question, Henry would have thought they were subtly accusing him of being an egotist, but this was Killian and he knew him better than that.

“No,” Henry said with a chuckled. “I’m rather boring. I think there are far more interesting protagonists in the world than Henry Mills. I’m still working out the kinks though. My material is a bit on the young side.”

“Speaking of the young,” Killian said. And there it was - the real reason Killian was calling him. “Have you spoken to your sister lately?”

“Beth?” Henry asked as if he somehow had another sister in the woodwork. Considering his life, it wouldn’t necessarily surprise him that much. “Over the phone? Not recently. I mean we text. She sent me a list of cat pirate puns yesterday but that’s about it. Why? What’s going on?”

“Well, officially? Nothing, but she’s been acting real strange lately. Very shut in and quiet,” Killian said with a sigh. “Your mother thinks it’s a phase. Teenage hormones and all that, but I know my daughter, lad and so do you. She’s a firecracker. Vibrant and full of fire. Now she’s just muted. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t eat. That…that isn’t my daughter. It’s like she’s been replaced by some zombie creation.”

Henry frowned, leaning forward and shutting his laptop.

“Is she sick?”

“She insists she isn’t, but I don’t know. She’s sixteen and I’m now persona-non-grata,” Killian sighed. “I figured if anyone knew, it might be you. You’re her brother and she looks up to you. You don’t have parental authority over her so I figured if she was really in trouble, she would turn to you.”

A part of Henry wanted to tell Killian he was barking up the wrong tree out of some strange sense of loyalty to the younger Joneses, but he was absolutely right. Whenever his younger siblings stepped into something bigger than they should have, they had a tendency of calling him before anyone else as if he were some magical “Get Out of Jail Free” card. He had always helped them and had kept their screw ups under wraps from their parents with the strong understanding that they would pick up babysitting hours if Henry needed them. He wasn’t aware that Emma and Killian had an inkling of this.

“I wouldn’t say Beth looks up to me that much, but I can talk to her if you like,” Henry said after a moment.

“That’s all I ask, Henry,” Killian replied gently. His gratitude was evident in voice.

“I’ll let you if anything comes of it,” Henry sighed. “I will see you tomorrow though.”

“You’re coming around noon with the little one, right?” Killian asked. Henry didn’t have to see him to know that his stepfather was rubbing the back of his ear as he spoke. It was already funny how well he could picture him even when he was miles away.

“Aye, Captain.” Henry couldn’t help but grin.

“Smartass,” Killian said affectionately. “I blame you for the constant sass I put up with. They learned it all from you.”

“I think you and Mom gave more than enough examples for them to follow in that department,” Henry laughed. “But if it makes you feel better, sure, blame me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Killian. Have a good one.”

“You as well, lad. I will see you then.”

Upon ending his phone call with Killian, Henry scrolled through his contact list. He frowned as he went through the ‘B’ section without seeing his sister’s name. He definitely had her number. She sent him random texts constantly. He immediately went back to his messages application and nearly smacked himself. He had forgotten that Beth had changed her name in his phone to ‘HRH Queen Beth of the Seven Seas.’ He snorted, thumbing the name and pressing the call button.

The phone rang twice before it went to voicemail.

“Hey it’s Beth! I’m either busy or ignoring you. You can leave a message, but I’m probably not going to listen to it. Just being up front. Bye,” his sister’s mischievous voice rang out.

Henry snorted again. Firecracker was certainly an optimal term for his sister.

“Hey Queenie Bee, it’s your favorite brother,” Henry started. “I cannot wait to see you tomorrow; however, you haven’t messaged me if you wanted me to sneak any contraband into the Swan-Jones Federal Prison. I’m packing tonight and would rather have it folded away nicely so Mom doesn’t see anything. You know how she snoops. Anyway, call me back.”

Not even a few minutes passed before Henry’s phone dinged in rapid session, heralding a series of text messages. Henry wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. There was something about teenagers that made them prefer text messages to phone calls. He couldn’t necessarily judge. He had been the same at that age. He tapped in his passcode to look at messages.

**Beth: Hey. I need a huge favor.**

**Beth: Major favor.**

**Beth: And you can’t tell Mom or Dad.**

**Beth: Bro Code, Henry. I’m invoking the Bro Code.**

Henry sighed, debating in his head out he wanted to respond to the messages. He would flat out ask her what was up, play protective older brother and get serious with her or he could play it cool and give her a more humorous response. He bit his lip before typing.

**Henry: I’m kinda wounded you think I’m a snitch. Bro Code invocation granted.**

**Henry: As for the favor, it depends on what you’re asking.**

**Henry: I’m not buying you beer or shit until you’re 18. That pact is sacred and before your time. Don’t like it? Take it up with the Dread Pirate Roberts**

Henry watched as dots appeared on his screen, signaling that his sister was typing back a reply. It took five minutes. The dots disappeared twice before reappearing. He idly wondered if he was going to get a reply with a word count that was worthy of a novel publication. It wouldn’t surprise him. Beth was absurdly fast at typing on her phone. She had the Guinness World Record in the bag if she ever went for it.

However, when Henry finally got her reply, it wasn’t novel length at all. It was only nine words. Nine words that made all the color drain from his face.

**Beth: I need you to buy me a pregnancy test**

Henry didn’t bother writing back a text. He pounded his thumb down on her name and pressed the call option.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Henry chanted under his breath. His fingers were tapping more violently against the table, loud enough to almost cover the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears.

She picked up just before the final ring.

“Hey…” Her voice was above a whisper.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate and very cruel joke,” Henry said. His desperation was clearly evident in his tone.

There was a long unsteady silence that followed his demand. Henry strained his ear to make sure he wasn’t missing a sound, but he wasn’t even sure he could hear her breathing. His fingers stopped tapping and he clenched his hand into a fist as his anxiety took hold.

“It’s not,” she said quietly.

“I’m driving over right now,” he stated firmly and began to back his stuff up.

He cursed as his laptop banged against the side of the table. It was a miracle the thing still worked. It was covered in scratches and dents from all the times he and his siblings had dropped it. He remembered quite vividly a time it fell off his lap while he and his sister had been watching the old Batman cartoons when she was eleven – only five years ago. Christ.

“You are not coming here today,” she hissed. “If you show up here, Mom and Dad are going to think something is wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” he bit back. “And they should know. Goddamn it, Elizabeth, what were you thinking?”

“Look, yell at me tomorrow,” Beth snapped. “This isn’t something that can get better or worse overnight. Either I am or not. But Bro Code has been invoked, Henry. You cannot tell Mom and Dad. Are you going to get me a test or not?”

“I will get you the test,” Henry sighed, rubbing his temple. “But we’re having a long chat tomorrow. A long chat. We are talking some Killian Jones length lectures involved.”

“Thanks, padre número dos.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how Spanish works and I’m sure as hell not your father but we’ll save that for the lecture tomorrow,” Henry said, squeezing his eyes shut. Coffee wouldn’t do. He needed vodka. Some serious vodka. And at least a tank of water because he wasn’t young enough where he could deal with hangovers anymore.

The rest of Henry’s evening went in a daze. He couldn’t focus on anything, even listening to his daughter talk about her day at school. All he could think about was the fact that Beth had asked him to buy her a pregnancy test. His sixteen-year old sister was possibly pregnant. He still remembered when she was born. Hell, he remembered changing her diapers. The concept of that baby potentially having a baby made him nauseous.

Before he went to bed, his phone went off one last time, another text message.

**Beth: Mom & Dad are on patrol tomorrow morning since they aren’t expecting you until noon. Drop by the house early? I’ll make Bean a cupcake.**

Henry bit his lip before typing his response. His heart seemed to ache more when Beth had invoked her nickname for Lucy. She had given his daughter that name before she was even born. Beth had been six and incredibly excited to be someone’s aunt. When he and Jacinda had shown her their first ultrasound picture, she had called the baby “the Little Bean,” which had slowly evolved into just “Bean.” It was just another reminder that Beth wasn’t that much older than Lucy.

**Henry: Sounds like a plan. No cupcakes though. Luce doesn’t need more sugar. She’s sweet enough as it is.**

**Beth: You’re lame. :P**

**Henry: And you’re possibly pregnant. Now sleep. Big day tomorrow.**

The next morning, Henry nearly had to drag Lucy out of bed to get her in the car. She was only ten, but liked to sleep in like her teenaged aunt and uncles. The only thing that seemed to arouse her from her slumber was the promise of two doughnuts and a strawberry coolatta from Dunkin Donuts. He made a pit stop to at his local CVS to buy a pregnancy test and cranberry juice before heading on his way to Storybrooke, blushing violently when the cashier granted him a cheery “good luck.”

When he arrived at his parents’ house an hour later, he found his younger brother Wes sitting on the couch watching a women’s fitness program in his underwear while eating directly from a box of cheerios. He looked incredibly hungover and stared bleary eyed as Henry walked through the door with Lucy, who was still slurping contently on her coollatta.

“Mom and Dad aren’t here, Hank. I thought you weren’t coming until noon,” Wes said, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah, well, duty called. Where’s Beth?” Henry asked, feeling a little impatient.

“Probably still asleep upstairs. Why? Are you giving her something?” Wes asked, eying the plastic bag in Henry’s hand.

“Nothing you would be interested in,” Henry sighed. “Would you mind putting on some clothes and watching Lucy for me?”

“Depends on what’s in it for me,” Wes replied, drumming his hands against his stomach and giving him a grin that would have looked mischievous if Wes didn’t look half dead. Henry had seen him down an entire bottle of Captain Morgan and look ship shape the next day. He didn’t even want to know how much alcohol he had consumed last night.

He also wasn’t in the mood to play this game this morning.

“How about this? You have my old room. I know there’s a loose floorboard in there that’s perfect for hiding things. You’re clever and I know you found it. You might even have some unsavory stuff in there. How about I don’t tell Mom and Killian about it and you watch Lucy.”

“That’s evil.” Wes was staring at Henry like he had never seen him before.

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Henry smirked. “You don’t even know what evil is.”

Wes opened his mouth to say something but as he was about to, the front door opened and a sweat-drenched Harrison walked through. He had music blasting in his ears so loud that Henry could actually hear the lyrics and promptly identified the current song as something from the Jimi Hendrix collection.

“Uncle Harry!” Lucy smiled, putting her drink down on a side table and opening her arms to give Harrison a hug.

Henry’s other brother gave Lucy a small smile as he took out his earphones. He looked like he was ready to fall on his knees and hug her back but was also becoming aware that he was creating a puddle of sweat around him and smelled like a locker room.

“You don’t want to touch me right now, Bean. Uncle Harry is pretty gross since he just ran seven miles without his running buddy,” Harrison replied gently, giving Wes a mild side eye.

Wes scoffed.

“It’s a weekend. Saturday is a day of rest. I don’t need to run circles around you every day, Har,” Wes replied with a roll of his eyes.

“You know what,” Henry said, coming to a decision. “This is perfect. There’s finally someone responsible here who isn’t at work or asleep. Forget what I said, Wes. Harrison, can you watch Lucy while I go talk to Beth about something personal?”

“Did you just suggest I wasn’t responsible?” Wes asked, offended.

“Yeah,” Henry said casually. “That and I don’t trust you with my kid. Knowing you, you would teach her how to make a bomb or something.”

Harrison snorted in a amusement both at Henry’s comment and Wes’s following look of outrage. He wiped at his brow while working out the kinks in his earphones. Henry made a mental note to get him some Bluetooth headphones for Christmas.

“Sure. I can watch Lucy. What’s going on with Beth?” Harrison asked as he placed his headphones down on the side table next to Lucy’s Dunkin Donuts confection.

“None of your business,” Henry replied shortly.

“Apparently they’re having a pow-wow that we’re not invited to,” Wes remarked before shoving an entire handful of cheerios into his mouth.

Henry and Harrison both made a face at the display.

“Hey Bean,” Harrison said, dropping a hand on Lucy’s head and giving her hair a firm ruffle. “How about we go upstairs and wake Neddy up, then I’ll take a shower and we get a Rockband tournament going?”

Lucy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing Harrison’s hand and gripping it tightly. Harrison laughed as she started to “drag” him up the stairs. It was comical for Henry to watch as his gigantic younger brother was being led around by his tiny daughter. Harrison was great with her though; always patient and gentle.

“I have a feeling she prefers the Bear to me,” Wes commented as he turned his attention back to the fitness program.

“Well, “the Bear” isn’t hungover half the time she sees him,” Henry said pointedly.

Henry didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He made his way up the stairs, stopping only when he got to Beth’s door. It was closed and he gave it a tentative knock. After yesterday’s conversation, he highly doubted she was asleep.

After a moment, there was movement on the other side of the door. Beth opened it just a crack. Henry could barely see anything inside the room, but what he could see was his sister’s tired green eyes looking out at him.

“Did you bring it?” Beth’s voice was but a whisper as she opened the door wider.

Henry almost shook his head when he saw his sister because he didn’t want to believe it was her. Regardless of what time it was or how she was feeling, Beth was lively and full of spirit. Killian had said it best - Beth was a firecracker; exciting, explosive, loud and stunning. She was full of energy; always ready to slash someone down whether with a clever quip or her practice sword.

The person in front of him wasn’t lively, bawdy and boisterous at all; nothing like the Beth he knew. What Henry was looking at was a shadow of his sister. Beth, who had always been slender, looked now pale and positively gaunt. Dark bruises had formed under her eyes and there were long dried streaks of make up that trailed down her cheeks, indicating to Henry that she had been crying for quite awhile before he showed up. She looked like a paradoxical picture of youth and death; a pretty animated corpse. He didn’t want to believe this was his sister, but it was. All the anger and annoyance he had been harboring since last night seemed to deflate in an instant.

Henry offered her a weak smile and lifted the plastic bag in his grasp up for her to see. He gave it an unnecessary shake, the contents inside dully thudding against their packaging.

“I bought test and some juice in Portland on my way up. I didn’t think it would do us any good if I got it from Dark Star’s. The whole town would know about it two seconds after it was bought and I think the last thing you need right now is gossip,” he said gently.

Despite the softness of his tone, his words seemed to have broken this brittle and sad version of his sister. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she threw herself at him, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her up. As her arms wrapped around him, Henry’s mind wandered idly back to a documentary he had watched on pythons. He recalled the amount of emphasis that been given on their kill methods and the amount of pressure per cubic inch they could enforce upon their prey. Python muscles had nothing on Beth Jones. Henry was almost certain that his internal organs would be squeezed out by the force of her embrace.

“Thank you,” Beth choked out in a faint whisper that broke  Henry’s heart. He ran his fingers through her hair in hopes of soothing her.

Every part of him hurt for her. She was so incredibly young; a child stuck in a precarious situation. Beth had never seemed so fragile and small before, but she did so now. She was looking at him with large green eyes that were pleading with him to be her lifeline.

“No need to thank me,” he murmured against her hair. “That’s what big brothers are for. It’s going to be okay.”

Beth seemed to break a bit more when he said the word ‘okay.’ Her body shook and Henry did his best to comfort her by rocking her gently from side to side.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He was a complete fish out of water. There wasn’t a manual out there for impossibly older brothers and how to handle their possibly pregnant teenager sisters. He kept thinking back on the mere six years difference between his sister and his daughter. He tried incredibly hard not to let that thought continue to freak him out.

“I’m pretty sure that big brothers aren’t supposed to buy pregnancy tests for their sisters, but okay,” Beth wetly laughed.

Henry cringed at the sound. Her laugh was a hollow and empty sound that bordered on hysteria.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Henry murmured, still rocking her gently and rubbing her back. “None of that, okay? Regardless of everything going on, I got your back. We all have your back. You got family, Beth, baby or not.”

“How can you say that?” Beth cried, tears falling off her face and dribbling down Henry’s leather jacket.

Her eyes bulged for a moment and a look of pure horror formed on her face as some dark thought flashed across her mind. Henry could only imagine how awful it was.

“Dad is going to kill me,” she said in a broken whisper. She looked ready to crumble.

Henry’s lips pulled into a tight smile. He has no illusions as to how his stepfather was going to react. Henry knew him well enough to know that Killian Jones was going to blow an absolute gasket if he discovered Beth, his unabashed pride and joy, was pregnant. He would be furious, incredibly upset and disappointed in his daughter, but he certainly wouldn’t kill her. The same could not be said for the currently unknown possible father, however. Henry couldn’t imagine a scenario where Killian didn’t try to run his hook through the unfortunate bastard that impregnated his only and beloved daughter.

“He will not kill you,” Henry murmured, placing a kiss on her head. “He and Mom might be upset and disappointed but they love you and will love you no matter what. It’s not like Mom has a leg to stand on when it comes to teenage pregnancies. At least you’re not in jail.”

As soon as he said it, Henry was hit with the sobering realization that his sister was roughly the same age as his mother when she had fallen pregnant with him. He had never truly thought on it before, but his mother had been like Beth, little more than a child. Not only that, she had been alone. Beth had him and though she didn’t believe it, she had an entire army of family that was willing to do anything to help her out if need be. Emma hadn’t had that. She had been locked in a prison cell with no one to turn to.

This revelation made him swallow roughly as a variety of emotions made themselves known. He felt a strong wave of admiration and sympathy for his mother. Seeing how broken Beth was at the moment made him realize the magnitude of Emma’s strength that went beyond just being the Savior. She had survived prison and given birth to a baby while being only a baby herself. And she had been alone.

That fact seemed to repeat itself on and on in Henry’s head. His mother had been alone. She had been pregnant and alone in jail. And his father had left her there. Henry sometimes thought about Neal and wondered what it would have been like if he had lived, but now all he felt towards him was anger. He had left his mother, the girl who had no one, left alone in jail. The fact she had been pregnant only made it worse. What sort of man did that?

A violent push from his sister cut him away from these thoughts and he was brought back to the present when Beth untangled herself from his grasp with an angry hiss.

“That was not remotely comforting!” she snapped.

Though she was angry, Henry was somewhat glad to see it. She looked more like his sister than the weeping zombie that clung to him. The fact she still had some steel in her bones made him more at ease. Beth was not a weeper. She was a fighter. An angry Beth, Henry could handle, but crying Beth had up him more off than the possibly of her being pregnant did.

“Sorry,” he replied apologetically. “I don’t have a basis for a situation like this. If you don’t mind me asking, who is the father? Well, possible father?”

Beth was quiet for a long moment and Henry was almost certain she wasn’t going to tell him.

“Benny Booth,” Beth sighed, running her hands through her hair and looking positively drained.

A flicker of anger returned to life in Henry’s stomach. This time wasn’t aimed at his sister and her carelessness, but rather at the asshole who had decided to mess around with his little sister. Benjamin Booth was three years older than Beth and though Henry no longer lived in Storybrooke, he was aware of his reputation as a lothario. He had once even tried to steal Henry’s motorcycle. Benny was handsome and charismatic, but was also manipulative and self-serving; the last person Henry wanted being with Beth.

“Ah, Beth, he’s nineteen. He has no business being around you. He’s an adult. You’re a kid. That’s statutory rape right there!” Henry exclaimed, trying to keep his anger out of his voice.

“It wasn’t rape,” Beth sighed, burying her face in her hands. “It was…we…we’re seeing each other…well, we had been. He hasn’t spoken to me since I told him about possible spawn.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Henry was just as surprised as Beth was by the amount of venom in his voice, but he meant every word.

“Henry, no. He’s not worth it,” Beth huffed, looking up from her hands.

“You seemed to think he was,” Henry snipped without thinking.

Beth looked pained at the remark and Henry immediately felt bad.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he said apologetically.

Beth put her palm up for a moment as if to make him stop talking before brining it back to her temple and sighing.

“No, no,” she said, fingers traveling down her face to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You’re right. I did and I was wrong. Look, it happened. Just give me the pee stick.”

Henry almost smiled at the abrupt command. It was signature Beth Jones to be blunt and crass whenever she could manage. Glimmers of his sister were rising from the surface and it reassured him that this situation hadn’t completely shaken her.

He handed her the plastic bag and she immediately rummaged through it, taking out the cranberry juice and the test. She carelessly tossed the remaining bag on the floor and Henry could hear his stepfather in the back of his mind throwing a fit over lack of proper disposal.

She eyed the cranberry juice dubiously for a moment before looking up at Henry.

“What? Did you think I had a UTI on top of possibly being pregnant?” Beth asked with a quirk of her brow as she uncapped the juice bottle and took a heavy swig.

“I thought you liked cranberry juice,” Henry replied hesitantly. “Was I wrong?”

“Yeah, I like cranberry juice. With vodka. But drinking it straight is kinda ‘meh.’ Ah well. I mean, at least it isn’t orange juice. That shit is nasty,” she replied as she took another sip.

“Only you would say orange juice is nasty,” Henry said with a shake of his head, sitting down on Beth’s bed and watching as she chugged the bottle. “Think you can pee on command?”

“That is a ridiculous question so I’m not even going to answer,” Beth responded with a snort, smacking her lips together as she finished the small bottle of cranberry juice.

Silence fell between them. Beth stared at the ceiling, tapping her fingers restlessly against the empty plastic bottle. Henry spent this time studying his sister. The more he looked at her, the more he thought on about their mother.

Beth strongly resembled Emma; she had the same slender built and similar facial features, though Beth’s cheeks were more pronounced and her lips a bit thinner than Emma’s. The major differences lay in Beth’s dark hair, pointed ears and tanner skin. Though if Henry ignored the hair and squinted a bit, he was certain he could see what his mother looked like at that age; the age were she had been pregnant with him.

Had Emma cried like Beth did when she realized she might be pregnant? How long had she been in prison before she started to suspect? Did she feel as resigned as Beth did when she realized that his father wasn’t going to be in the picture? He couldn’t ask Emma these questions, but something told him that she had been a bit like Beth - shocked, hysterical and panicked but trying to keep it all under wraps with small barbs and little jokes.

“How long do you think it will take before I feel the need to pee?” Beth asked, still looking at the ceiling.

“No idea, but I think I know a way to kick start it. I do it with Lucy every time I take her to the pediatrician,” Henry said, getting up from his spot on Beth’s bed. 

He opened the door to the tiny little bathroom attached to Beth’s room and turned on the sink. Beth watched him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Think of rivers and waterfalls,” Henry instructed.

“Does that ever work?” Beth asked, not looking impressed in the slightest.

“It does for Luce.”

Beth rolled her eyes and resumed tapping against the bottle. Henry sat back down on the bed and resumed watching her.

If she ended up pregnant, there would a smaller age gap between his sister and her child than there would be between himself and his sister. That realization left an acrid taste in his mouth. Beth was too young and he hoped against everything in existence that she wasn’t.

Emma had been too young as well. The thought kept bouncing in the back of his mind. It was as if everything led back to the fact that his mother had given birth to him when she was only seventeen.

Beth got up abruptly and picked up the test. She looked nervous and lost again. When she realized he was looking at her, she gave him a tentative smile.

“Duty calls,” she said.

He gave her a strained smile.

“Good luck and be brave,” he replied, watching as she tiptoed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

As he watched her walk, he came to the decision that if she was pregnant, he would teach that kid how to walk properly. It wasn’t always noticeable, but Beth talked on her toes constantly to make herself look taller. It was an odd little thing that she did to look on par with the rest of them, but Henry was certain that she was going to fall over and break something someday. No, Beth’s kid would walk properly.

And Beth would not be Emma. That was the firm conclusion that Henry had come to. As he had said before, she had more family than she knew what to do with and they would always help her out. However, even if they did somehow cast her out (and they would have to be brainwashed, cursed or on drugs to even consider it), Henry would be there for her and the kid no matter what. He wasn’t going to allow her to go through this experience alone. He would move her and the kid in with him, Jacinda and Lucy if he needed to.

After what felt like ages, Henry got up from the bed, went up to Beth’s en-suite and knocked on the bathroom door.

“You okay in there, Queenie Bee?” he asked tentatively.

“Just waiting.” Her voice was a bit muffled, but still audible through the door.

“Need me to come in there?”

There was a loud scoff from the other side. Henry could picture her rolling her eyes at him.

“I can handle a pee stick. Thank you.”

More silence followed and Henry waited anxiously outside the door. After a few more moments, there was hysterical laughter and Henry jumped at the sound.

“Beth? You okay?”

Beth opened the door abruptedly and gave him the biggest grin.

“I’m not pregnant!” she laughed before waltzed around Henry back into the room. She began spinning around like she was Linda Carter, arms stretched out and waving in the air and dark hair flying everywhere. She looked manic. “Who’s not pregnant? I’m not pregnant! No Booth spawn in me! Fuck yes!”

Despite his relief, Henry couldn’t find it in himself to share in her excitement.

“Good,” he said firmly. “You’re telling Mom and Killian about this.”

The spinning stopped. Beth looked over her shoulder at him with an incredulous expression. She adjusted herself so she was completely facing him. All euphoric cheering was gone and placed with confusion and annoyance.

“Why would I tell them? I’m not pregnant, Henry. There’s nothing to tell,” Beth said in a hard tone.

“Nothing to tell? Beth, you were subhuman this morning. Barely alive and full of anxiety over just the idea of being pregnant. I don’t know how you would be mentally if that result went the other way. You may be feeling good right now, but I’m not convinced you’re okay. I’m pretty certain you need to talk to someone about this and they need to know,” Henry said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking at her sternly.

“Don’t go Dad Mode on me, Henry Mills. I’m your sister, not your daughter!” Beth glared.

“What happened to be me being padre número dos?” Henry asked, raising his eyebrows. “Look, this was a big deal, Beth. I bought you a fucking fifteen-dollar pregnancy test and held you while you had a complete meltdown. You owe me this because I don’t feel comfortable keeping this from them.”

“Bro Code was invoked, Henry!” Beth hissed. “You cannot tell them!”

“Okay, Beth, Bro Code was originally made between Harrison, Wes and myself. You were not a party to it, so technically you can’t even invoke it. You have no leg to stand on, kid. Also the Bro Code was made with the purpose of keeping Wes from doing completely stupid shit and so that I could somewhat control him. Bro Code has nothing to do with accidental and potential pregnancies,” Henry replied, completely serious. “This…this could have gone south so fast, Beth. And if you don’t tell them, I will.”

Beth’s face was completely red and she looked like she wanted to punch Henry’s lights out. Her jaw was clenched and her fists were balled at her sides. Henry glanced around the room, taking in how many swords were just carelessly lying around it. He pitied anyone who tried to navigate this disaster in the dark. It was a dismemberment waiting to happen.

“I’ll tell Dad,” she said after a moment. “But let me do it on my terms.”

“No. Beth, you’re not doing it on your terms. You’re doing it on my terms,” Henry stated, holding firm. “You’re going to tell your father about this sometime before dinner or I’m going to tell him. And I’m going to be honest with you, if he hears it from me, he’s going to blow a gasket. And it’s going to be worse for you.”

“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll tell him before dinner, but if you tell him before the deadline, I will never forgive you. Now get out of my room.”

“I honestly wouldn’t expect anything else. But remember, tick tock goes the clock, Elizabeth,” Henry said with a sigh as he made his exit.

Henry went back downstairs where Harrison was showing Lucy and Neddy how to play better on Rockband. Neddy looked positively bored with it while Lucy’s cute face was screwed in concentration as she tried to follow her uncle’s meticulous instructions. Wes was laid out on the couch with a pillow over his head and Henry wouldn’t be surprised he was plotting everyone’s death underneath it. He watched them for a moment, waiting for Harrison’s lesson to end before approaching his daughter and placing a kiss on her head.

“What was that for?” she asked, looking a bit confused.

“No reason,” Henry smiled at her. “Just don’t be quick to grow up, okay?”

“Okay…”

It was a few more moments before Beth joined them, her lips still pursued in an angry frown and glaring at Henry every chance she got. Henry promptly did his best to ignore this behavior. If she wanted to act like a brat, then she could act like a brat. It just made him grateful she wasn’t going to be someone’s mother.

The glowering continued throughout the day and every time Henry caught her staring him down, he mouthed ‘tick tock’ at her. When they finally met up with their parents, Emma gave him a confused look when she saw him mouthing it at her.

“Do I even want to know what is going on?” she asked over dinner, watching as Killian and Beth walked outside of Granny’s to have their conversation.

Henry sighed.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, following Emma’s gaze and watching his stepfather and sister through the window.

Killian and Beth talked outside for long while. Henry observed as Beth wrung her hands and looked at her feet, fidgeting profusely while Killian looked more and more pained with each word. At the end of their conversation, they hugged tightly and Killian kissed the top of his daughter’s head. Henry was slightly surprised with his reaction. He was expecting a little more anger out of Killian over the situation, but was glad that he wasn’t the one who had to break the news of the pregnancy scare fiasco.

After dinner and when they returned back to the house to watch a film before bed, Killian pulled Henry aside and clapped him on the back.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Killian said quietly. “Thank you for helping Beth out. I’m grateful that she was able to talk to you and get some help. Though I won’t lie, I’m a bit upset that she didn’t choose to come to me.”

“She loves you and she really doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Henry replied. “Don’t beat yourself up. It was a tough situation and I think she was afraid you would disown her.”

Killian scoffed.

“I’m not going to disown her because of some ridiculous boy. That’s absurd.”

Henry frowned. That didn’t sound right. There should be a lot more anger there regardless of the fact that Beth wasn’t actually pregnant.

“Killian, if you don’t mind me asking…what did Beth tell you?”

“She told me how she was having boy trouble with some kid who was trying to blackmail her into doing some repulsive things even by my standards,” Killian responded with a frown. He looked at Henry with a perplexed expression, eyes intensely searching his face. “Why is there more to the story that I need know?”

The corner of Henry’s mouth twitched as rage roared inside of him. He was furious at Beth for lying and putting him in this situation. She had said she was going to tell her father and had deceived them all. More than that, she hafd called him out on his bluff and put him in a hard situation. Henry firmly believed that Killian deserved to know what was going with Beth and that Beth really needed to talk to someone, preferably a professional, about the experience. At the same time, he understood why Beth didn’t tell Killian and knew if he told Killian the truth right now, Beth would never forgive him. He would lose the trust of his little sister.

Henry sighed and a ran through his hair, silently cursing his sister in the back of his head.

“Nothing,” Henry lied. “There’s nothing else to it at all.”


	2. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this took FOREVER to write. So much is packed into this aftermath focused part two. I wasn’t expecting everyone to be so upset about Beth not telling the truth, but here we are. Anyway, please note that this takes place four years in the future. Beth is now 20, Henry is 39, Harrison is 24, Wes is 22 , Neddy is 15 and Lucy is 14. Scary right? Anyway, there is A LOT of emotions in this. A LOT. Please do not kill me.

_Four years later..._

Parents weren’t supposed to have favorites amongst their children. Killian Jones would vehemently deny he had a favorite out of his kids, but if he had to pick one, he would admit, privately and only to himself, that it would be his daughter. Killian loved his sons and he would fight anyone to said otherwise, but he and his daughter Beth had always had a close and special relationship. Daughters were a different sort of breed than sons were and his connection with Beth seemed to go deeper than the ones he had with Henry, Harrison, Wes and Neddy. Since the moment she had opened her eyes, Killian had felt nothing but an intense love and a fierce need to protect his daughter; to cradle her in his arms and never let her go.

There no denying that Beth had always been a “Daddy’s Girl.” When she was a child, she rarely left his side, often tugging on his pant leg and clutching his hook tightly - she always made a point to hold onto his hook and had done so since she was a toddler. She would snuggle into his side and listen with full attention as he regaled her with stories of his pirate days, often interrupting him with a question or a comment, but nonetheless always eager. For the first five years of her life, she walked around with a foam play sword and preened whenever they would call her the “Pirate Queen.” And that’s what she was to Killian, a little queen. His little queen.

Naturally, she became more aloof and independent in her teenaged years, but they maintained a close relationship. Until she turned nineteen and went off to have adventures of her own, Killian and his daughter would purposefully wake up just before dawn and would work on her swordplay in the backyard. She had a tenacity and talent with swords that none of her brothers had shown and Killian loved nothing more than those moments where they would spar and talk about everything and anything. It seemed like there was nothing they could talk about. There were no secrets between father and daughter.

Or so Killian thought.

His entire opinion on his relationship with Beth changed one night when he answered a call from the Rabbit Hole to intervene on drunk and disorderly conduct being committed by one Benjamin “Benny” Booth. None of this seemed out of the ordinary. Booth was an acknowledged alcoholic and known to be belligerent when he was too gone in his cups.

Killian did not like handling calls for drunk and disorderly conduct. They were often messy affairs that involved him hauling someone away in the back of his car where they would proceed to throw up over his leather upholstery. With the recent additions of his eldest son Harrison and his brother-in-law Neal to the law enforcement team, Killian normally left the night business, especially the drunks, to the boys. Harrison and Neal were both tall, healthy and able-bodied young men who were more than capable of handling violent and inebriated shenanigans.

However, that particular night Harrison had on a date with his longtime girlfriend Nasira and Neal had been sick when he and his wife received a call from the local bar and were asked to intervene. Emma was just as fond of those type of calls as Killian was, which led to them drawing straws on who would be the one to answer. Naturally Killian lost. He grumbled a bit in his defeat, but gave his wife an affectionate kiss before donning his leather coat and answering the call.

It was a call he wasn’t likely to forget.

“Deputy Jones,” Booth had acknowledged him with an exaggerated nod and a smirk as Killian had approached him. “An alcoholic after my own heart. Normally I’m a whiskey man but for you, I can stomach some rum.”

“No need to switch on my account,” Killian replied smoothly. “Actually, I would prefer it if you would consider turning in for the night. It’s getting late. I’m sure Marco and August are worried.”

“Are you trying to kick me out of here, Deputy?” Booth asked. “Because I’m not leaving this seat. This is my seat, you see. This is where I live.”

Booth’s eyes were glossy and he was wobbling a bit in his aforementioned seat. His speech was also a bit slurred and Killian would bet a pretty penny that he smelled like a distillery. Killian subtly placed his hand on his hip, not too far away from his cuffs. He didn’t want to hull the man out and he would give him every chance to go in peace, but Killian had a feeling Booth wasn’t going to out quietly.

“That’s quite evident,” Killian replied, tired and trying his best to be patient. “But it’s getting late. Nick is looking to close down soon, mate. He would appreciate it if you went home.”

“No. I’m not leaving! You want me to leave, you’re going to have to fight me!” Booth snapped back belligerently.

He banged his glass down hard on the table, causing the patrons around him to jump and eye him warily. Killian sighed. This was actually what he had wanted to avoid.

“Look, Benny, I don’t want to fight you. I don’t even want to cuff you. I would prefer it if we handled this like civilized men and we parted company without me hauling you down to the station for booking. I would much rather you go home to your family so I can go home to mine,” Killian replied, giving to keep his voice as gentle as he could.

“You’re not a fighter, huh, Deputy? You’re more of a fucker than a fighter,” Booth slurred, swaying in his seat like an angry cobra and glaring at Killian. “Like your daughter, huh? You would rather fuck than fight.”

Drunk cursing never really bothered Killian. He had heard more than his fair share of colorful insults over the centuries. Booth’s ravings were far from creative. However, the second Booth mentioned Beth, a spike of anger ran down his spine.

“Let’s leave my daughter out of this business, shall we?” Killian asked coldly.

“I fucked her, you know,” Booth smirked, leaning back in his seat before turning to the people around him. “I fucked his daughter. I fucked Beth Jones. Everyone thought she was an untouchable but I had her! I screwed the brains out of Storybrooke’s perfect little princess! And let me tell you, the things she could do with her legs? The girl belongs in porno. She was surprising a good time, you know, for being sixteen and all. And now, she’s fucking a fish.”

Killian had made a lot of progress over the years abstaining from giving into his more violent impulses when he was angry but the second Booth smirked and kept spewing nasty things about Beth, he saw red. He grabbed Booth by the front of his t-shirt, hook piercing the worn cotton. He glared down at the drunken man with murder in his eyes, wishing that that his hook was lodged in the man’s neck rather than his shirt. He wanted nothing more than to watch this pitiful excuse for a human being to choke on his own blood.

The entire bar went silent as Killian grabbed Booth, watching with wary but curious eyes. He had no doubt that someone in the crowd was texting his sons to let them know what was happening at the Rabbit Hole.

“It would be a wise decision if you stopped talking,” Killian said in a dangerously soft tone. “Just stop talking. Because if you say another word about her, I can’t promise you that you’re going to leave this bar tonight with your face intact.”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Booth scoffed. “You’re a cop. Besides, after all, we were almost family.”

“What are you talking about?” Killian hissed.

Killian pulled Booth closer. His hook slipped further into his shirt until the fabric hit the top of Killian’s brace and the sharp tip was poking into Booth’s chin. The steel nicked Booth’s skin, blood trickling down the side of Killian’s hook.

Either Booth was so drunk that he didn’t feel the hook digging into his chin or he was just insane, but he laughed as Killian got in his face; arrogant and completely unafraid.

“Didn’t think I knew about the baby, did you? She told me she thought she was pregnant and I know you killed it. Couldn’t bear the thought that I put a bastard in that belly, huh? I’ve always wanted to know how you got rid of it. Did you take her to a clinic across the town line or do it the old fashion way with tea and tansy? You’re an old fashioned boy, aren’t you, Deputy? I’m betting it was the tea.”

Killian’s eyes bulged and he nearly yanked Booth off his seat in his rage. There were a few gasps that resounded around the room and Killian became very aware that the people around him had heard the ridiculous accusations that Booth had made.

“Do you know what I hate more than sloppy violent drunks, Booth? Shameless liars who try to tarnish the names of ladies,” Killian replied through gritted teeth. “I’ve told you twice now to stop bringing my daughter and lying about her. Mention her name again and I will make good on my threats.”

Booth laughed in Killian’s face again.

“Lady? Please! Your daughter is a wh-” Booth didn’t finish his sentence.

Killian’s fist connected with Booth’s jaw with a loud sickening crack. Booth sunk back in his seat, knocked cold by the combination of Killian’s hard swing and the massive amounts of alcohol in his system. Killian shook out his hand, hissing slightly at the throbbing in his knuckles. He detached his hook from Booth’s shirt, not caring as the unconscious man’s head slumped forward and smacked into the table. He pulled out his cuffs, roughly brought Booth’s hands behind the chair and restrained his arms.

The bartender Nick was an old friend of Killian’s. He had been working at the Rabbit Hole for as long as Killian could remember. He was a heavyset man with graying black hair and a lightly bearded face who shared Killian’s penchant for wearing black. Nick was a capable man and didn’t often call about the drunks who inhabited the Rabbit Hole, often preferring to take care of them by himself. However, like Killian, he was an aging man and had recently had a hip replacement surgery. Drunk wrangling wasn’t easy for him anymore.

Nick had a glass of rum waiting for him on the counter when Killian looked up.

“On the house, Captain,” Nick said with a sympathetic look.

Killian looked at the rum then looked back at Booth who was unconscious and probably would be for a few more moments. Feeling still a bit raw and petty, he kicked Booth’s foot unkindly before joining Nick at the bar with a weary expression.

“Thanks, mate,” he said, lifting the glass and taking a healthy sip. “I needed that.”

“It’s a pity that you didn’t get to hit him before he passed out on the table,” Nick said loudly, looking sternly at his patrons as if daring to them to contradict him.

Killian snorted.

“That’s not necessary,” Killian said. “He was so liquored up, I doubt he’ll remember it.”

“Hey, I don’t want you getting in trouble. I’ll lose my best customer then,” Nick replied. “Besides he was saying shit about your daughter. Beth’s a good girl. She doesn’t need those rumors flying around.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Killian responded, taking another generously gulp.

“Speaking of your daughter…How is Beth doing these days?” Nick asked casually.

“Well. She’s doing well. Grown up and off doing her own thing. Barely has time for her old man anymore,” Killian chuckled. “David is convinced she’s going to be settling soon since she’s been seeing Will for a year now. You’ve probably seen him around be around before. Ariel’s boy. Big tall ginger lad.”

“Ah, so the fish comment now makes sense. I didn’t quite get that,” Nick said with a nod. “A pirate’s daughter with a mermaid’s son. That’s quite the pair. Is he a good guy?”

“He’s a very nice kid,” Killian replied diplomatically. “Very respectful. Very polite. Just as charming as his mother. Asks a lot of questions like her too.”

Nick frowned as he listened to Killian’s words, cleaning down his side of the bar as he did so.

“Sounds decent enough. But you don’t seem to like him.”

“I don’t like anyone who dates my daughter. But I like Will as much as I could given the circumstances. He’s a thousand leagues better than Whiskey Dick over there,” Killian said, jabbing his thumb back in Booth’s direction. “But I can’t figure out what Beth likes about him. He’s too…safe. Too vanilla. She leads him around by the dick.”

“Maybe she likes that. If I recall your daughter as well as I think do, she’s always been on the bossy side,” Nick commented, taking Killian’s empty glass and pouring him another drink.

“That’s my little girl you’re talking about, mate.”

“Allow me to apologize. Your drink is on me again,” Nick replied lightly.

Nick pushed it across the bar until it stopped against Killian’s forearm. He took and raised it in thanks before bringing it to his lips. A comfortable silence fell between the two men.

“Killian, we’ve known each other for a long time…” Nick started, looking unsure for a moment.

“Since I pilfered your rum stock when I first arrived back with Cora. I remember it well,” Killian chuckled.

“Yeah. I’m never going to forget that, you old bastard, but please understand that I don’t mean to insult you or your family when I ask this, and you’re quite welcome to steal my rum stock again for this question, but is there’s any stock in what Booth said? I mean, he’s drunk out of his mind, but he seemed to believe what he was saying and you know what they say…drunk words, sober thoughts.”

Killian’s jaw worked. He wanted to berate his barkeep for asking the question and follow it up with a taste of his hook, but the truth was that Booth’s words had been marinating in the back of his head since he heard them. Beth had never mentioned Booth to him, and they had lengthy conversations about her paramours in the past without much issue. If there was once something between Booth and his daughter, he would like to think that she would have told him about it, especially if there was a pregnancy involved.

“No,” Killian said firmly. “He’s just a fuckhead. Beth would have told me if she was involved with him.”

Nick gave him a sad smile.

“You sure? Teenage girls tend to hide things like unsavory boyfriends…”

“Positive,” Killian replied with as much conviction as he could muster. “Beth has always been open with me about her relationships with her boyfriends and her girlfriends. Booth is full of shit.”

“Just checking,” Nick said before leaning down, grabbing an unopened bottle of rum and placing it down in front of Killian. “For your troubles, old friend. I wasn’t sure if he had struck a nerve or not aside from just being a complete shitbag. Needed to know if I was going to have to help you hide a body later.”

Killian and Nick didn’t discuss much after the exchange. Killian finished his glass, picked up the unopened bottle and placed it in the crook of his arm before not too gently dragging the still unconscious Booth into the back of his car. Killian stopped by the station and placed Booth in one of the holding cells. As he hauled Booth onto the metal bed, he looked down at him and studied his features.

Despite being an absolute piece of garbage in Killian’s mind, Booth was admittedly on the attractive side. He had lots of thick wavy hair and almost feminine looking eyelashes. His visage was one could be classified as conventionally handsome. He could see why women would like him even if he was an unsavory character while intoxicated.

Had his daughter fallen for this pretty face? Killian wanted to think that his daughter was capable of seeing the character that lay behind the mask. He had always taught her on how looks could be deceiving and had even advised her to use her own to her advantage if she was in a tough situation and if her life depended on it.

Booth had given a specific age. He had claimed to have slept with Beth when she was sixteen. The very thought sickened him. Beth had always been clever and a head more mature than her peers; always trying to act older than she was. Killian had always attributed it to the fact she had a tendency to hang around her older brothers and their friends. On top of that, as intelligent as she was, Beth had always been horribly impulsive, jumping into things before she had really assessed them; continuously brazen and bold. With as lively and beautiful as she was, Beth was definitely capable of catching anyone’s eye and with Booth being older than her, she would have thought of him as a challenge.

Furthermore, Killian had never made it a secret how he felt about Benny Booth. He had never been a fan, but then again, this wasn’t surprising, considering who his father was. Killian disliked August Booth with a passion of a thousand suns and didn’t necessarily like the looks August gave his wife. He was even less of a fan when August had arrived back in Storybrooke twenty years ago with a three-year old son and had all but dropped that son on his elderly father Macro. As much as he didn’t care to admit it, a lot of Killian’s dislike of Benny stemmed from his dislike of August. Beth had known this. Perhaps knowing his dislike for the Booths had made her reluctant to admit to her father that she was attracted to him.

The more Killian pondered, the less confident he felt.

Beth getting involved with Booth? It was a possibility, Killian begrudgingly admitted it. But Booth getting Beth pregnant? That was really the kicker. He really didn’t want to believe that Beth would keep something that major from him or that she was even capable of hiding something like that. She was clever, but not that clever. Killian had supported his wife through four different pregnancies. He would like to think he could spot the symptoms if he saw them again. He raked his memory, trying to find something that would imply that Beth, at some point, could have possibly have been pregnant but there was nothing.

The more Killian thought and the more he looked at Booth, the more he wanted to kill him for even putting these horrid thoughts in his head. He left the station as quickly as he could, trying to put as much distance between himself and Booth as he possibly could.

When Killian crawled into bed next to his wife that night, Emma immediately turned to face him and curled her arms around his torso. When she felt how tense he was, she frowned sleepily and looked at the pensive expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” he replied with a sigh.

She pressed her fingers into the stiff muscles of his shoulders. He winced slightly at the feeling.

“This does not feel like nothing,” she said.

“Benny Booth said something and I can’t get it out of my head,” Killian sighed.

“Well, what was it? If it’s bothering you this badly, it’s got to be something.” Emma shifted closer to him. Her fingers trailed down his clavicle and his arm until they brushed against his only hand. Her hand gently met his and she laced their fingers together, getting him gentle squeeze.

“According to Benny, he and Beth were a thing once upon a time…”

“A thing?”

“Well, he pointblank said he fucked her and claimed she had gotten pregnant,” Killian clarified, glaring up at the ceiling. “He accused me of aborting the child.”

Emma sat up and looked at him with a mixture of horror, shock and outrage. He sat as well, searching her face. It didn’t seem like his wife knew anything more about this absurd tale than he did. Killian had been certain that Emma would never keep something like this from him if he knew, but they did have a history of keeping things from one another if they thought it was too upsetting.

“That’s quite the story and quite an accusation,” Emma breathed. Her green eyes were still wide as she regarded him. “You don’t believe him, do you?”

“Every part of me wants to call him a lying sack of shit, but he seemed so certain. He was drunk as a skunk, but that’s nothing something you come up with when you’re too deep in your cups,” Killian sighed. “Well, one thing he’s wrong about is that I certainly didn’t make my daughter have an abortion. That is something I would never do. But did Beth and him ever have a thing? I’m not certain. She never spoken of him, but this keeps rubbing me raw.”

“I would hate to think that I was so oblivious that I didn’t notice that my baby was having a baby,” Emma remarked, running her hands through her hair. “But then again, I thought Neddy was menopause.”

They silently regarded each other for a moment, both of them tired but full of adrenaline. Emma was fiddling with the corner of their down comforter, biting her lip. Killian swallowed for a moment before reaching for his phone which he had left on his bedroom table. He thumbed in his passcode before scrolling through his contacts.

“You are seriously not calling our daughter at two in the morning!” Emma hissed, whacking his shoulder.

“No,” Killian sighed. “I’m calling Henry.”

“Why the hell are you calling Henry?!” Emma exclaimed. “He sure as hell isn’t going to be up! You really want to wake him and Jacinda up over this insanity!? No! Killian put it down!”

Killian paused in his task and looked up at Emma with an exasperated look.

“Look, I’m not going to get any sleep tonight until I get some answers. If anyone is going to know anything, it’s Henry. They always tell him everything. I bet you the Jolly that if Beth had any involvement with Booth, he would know. And he also is the only one out of the five who knows how to forge my signature. If she had a procedure done…well, no one would think twice if he claimed to be her father…He would have been able to give authorized consent. I need to know this, Swan,” Killian said in a near lecturing tone. “I need this. I need to know. And Henry owes us.”

“What do you mean he owe us? Killian, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about all the times in college he called us at two, three or four in the morning because he was drunk and needed something. Remember when he lost his keys during that absurd school festival of his and we had to get a locksmith to make a new car key? I’m cashing my payback in for that,” Killian replied.

“That was eighteen years ago, Killian,” Emma groaned while rubbing her temples.

“Perhaps. But I don’t care,” he said, not looking at her as he pressed his thumb on Henry’s name and placed the phone to his ear.

The line rang three times before Henry picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was muffled by sleep. There was a loud yawn that followed the greeting. It was obvious that the phone call had awoken him.

Killian didn’t care.

“I’m going to ask you questions and you’re going to answer them honestly yes or no,” Killian said tersely.

Emma groaned beside him and there was a long pause on the other end of the line. Killian was about to address him again when Henry spoke up.

“…May I ask why I’m facing the Inquisition?” Henry asked with another yawn.

“Because someone said something to me tonight and I need answers. And if anyone knows the truth of the situation, it’s you,” Killian replied.

“They really must have said something if you’re calling me at two in the morning on a Friday? Saturday? Fuck, I don’t even know. All I know is that it’s too early for this…Why would I know the truth about anything?”

“Because WWHD,” Killian said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his ear.

Emma was looking at him in confusion. Upon seeing her expression, Killian made a sigh and he nudged her arm to the side with his injured arm, tapping the inner side of her wrist with his blunted one. Her eyes went wide when she realized what he was referring to.

When Beth turned eighteen, she and the boys had the brilliant idea of getting matching tattoos. Killian couldn’t necessarily judge. He had more inked skin than not, but they hadn’t necessarily told their parents about this plan before they had done it. The day after they had celebrated together, they had come home with bandages on their wrists. Harrison, Wes and Beth all had gotten the words ‘WWHD’ tattooed on them. When Emma had asked what that meant, Harrison who replied that it stood for a question they all asked quite often when they were in trouble.

“WWHD? What are you talking about, Killian?” Henry asked, sounding now more confused than sleepy.

“WWHD. What. Would. Henry. Do,” Killian responded, emphasizing each word. “Your brothers and sister admire you more than anyone else. If they told anyone anything, it would be you. Don’t deny it. I know you’ve bailed them all out once or twice. I’m not angry with you about that. That’s just being a good brother, but this…I need to know.”

“Okay, okay, easy Killian. I’ll talk. Okay? Death Star plans? Marauders maps? The one ring to rule them all? It’s all yours. Just ask.”

It always amazed him just much Henry could sound like Emma at times. And this was definitely one of those times. The pure exasperation in his voice was definitely something he got from his mother.

Killian licked his chapped hips for a moment and looked his wife in the eye. She gave him a firm nod. He kept her gaze as he asked his question.

“Was Beth ever involved with Benny Booth?”

Over the phone, Killian could hear Henry suck on his teeth when he heard the question. Killian closed his eyes. There was silence and Killian knew the answer before Henry even spoke. He wanted to throw something, preferably his phone but he wanted, no, he  _needed_  Henry to answer the question.

“Yes,” Henry said reluctantly.

Killian tossed his phone down on the bed with a frustrated noise crawling up the back his throat. He picked it up again and put the phone on ‘speaker mode’ so that Emma could hear the conversation. Emma seemed to realize the answer that Killian had received because she paled visibly.

“You’re on speaker. Your mother is awake and listening,” Killian informed his stepson. “Now, you’re going to tell us everything you know.”

“Well, this is certainly a wakeup call. Look, give me a second and we’ll talk. I really don’t want to wake my wife. I think you both can understand and sympathize with that,” Henry said and there was a snappish hint to his tone.

Killian rolled his eyes and Emma leaned forward to give him a smack on the shoulder. If Killian wasn’t so anxious over the situation at hand, he would have offered his wife a smirk, a wink and a tumble in the sheets, but all joy seemed to be sucked out of him at that moment.

There was rustling on Henry’s end following by a soft clicking down, which Killian could only assume was a door.

“Okay, I’m back, High Inquisitor. You may begin your interrogation,” Henry said with a sigh,

“I would tell you’re hilarious, but I’m afraid I’m not in a charitable mood,” Killian replied with a small scowl. “I need you to tell me everything you know about Benny Booth and Beth. In as much detail as you possibly can provide, lad.”

“To be honest with you, I don’t have that many details, Killian,” Henry sighed. “I don’t know when they got together or how they got together or how long they were a thing. Beth was pretty scant on the details when she told me. She just thought she was in a bad place and that they had broken up and that she needed my help. I know that they ended on horrible terms and they haven’t spoken to each other since…I do know that Benny was as big of a douche-canoe as you can imagine and wrote some pretty shitty stuff about her in the bathroom at Flavors. It really hurt her, but I think Wes and Harrison took care of that.”

“That’s why Harrison threw Benny Booth over the Hermans’ fence that summer,” Emma gasped, eyes wide. “He never said why he did. Just fixed the fence without complaint.”

Killian recalled the incident in question vividly. Nothing had shocked him more than getting a phone call from Sean Herman about how his eldest son had lifted up Benny Booth and had nearly tossed him over the white picket fence that outlined their property. Harrison hadn’t been able to completely fulfill his human toss as Booth’s ass hadn’t cleared the top of the posts and therefore had broken that section of the fence. No matter how much Killian and Emma had grilled him, Harrison had never given an explanation for assaulting the young man. He had just quietly accepted his punishment without compliant.

His sons had known about the relationship and what it had done to their sister. They had never told him anything about it. A strange mixture of guilt and rage churned in Killian’s gut.

“Henry, I need you to answer me honestly now, lad,” Killian said after he fully digested the information. “Did Beth ever mention anything about being pregnant?”

Henry was quiet for long a time. As the silence stretched, Killian and Emma shared another anxious look. This was not a good sign.

“Beth was never actually pregnant,” Henry said cautiously. Killian and Emma both breathed sighs of relief. A weight lifted itself from Killian’s shoulder and he felt much lighter than he had since Booth had thrown the accusations around. “She thought she might be and she called me. I got her a test and it came out negative. And that was the end of it.”

“Henry, why didn’t you say anything?” Emma said, taking Killian’s hand and squeezing it.

“Because it wasn’t mine to tell. Look, I wanted her to tell you. I told her to tell you, but she didn’t.”

“That’s not her call,” Killian said sharply. “She was a little kid. She doesn’t get to make that decision. Henry, you were the adult. You should have told us.”

Emma sucked in a breath at the anger that was building up in Killian’s tone. She gave him a warning look that he didn’t give much mind to because he was more than aware that if he did then they would get into a nasty fight.

“I was between a rock and a hard place, Killian. I wanted you to know, but she didn’t want you to. She begged me not to tell you about it. Numerous times. I didn’t approve of her keeping it from you, but I didn’t want to lose her trust. I was thinking in the long term. If I had told you, she would have stopped telling me things and I thought you would rather have an adult who she could turn to in a time of need instead of going at all alone,” Henry said defensively.

“All I’m hearing is a bunch of weak excuses as to why I wasn’t notified that my daughter had a crisis and was harassed,” Killian responded, almost spitting his words in his fury. “The key wording here is that she’s MY daughter, Henry. Mine. I know it gets a little confusing sometimes with the age differences, but she’s not your child. How would you feel if Lucy had a crisis like this and I kept it from you? Because I’m fairly certain you would punch me in the face if I kept it from you for four years. Four fucking years.”

“There is no need to bring Lucy into this just because you’re pissed off with me,” Henry snapped.

“Apologies, I meant no disrespect to her, she is my granddaughter after all, but I need you to understand this from a father’s prospective, not a brother’s. This isn’t just hiding Wes when he’s too hungover or buying a new couch because Harrison broke the old one and he didn’t want us to know. This…this is bigger than that. This…I’m not sure I can forgive this,” Killian replied.

There a long silence that followed. Emma was pale and staring at him in disbelief. Killian was still feeling raw; emotions that he hadn’t felt in a long time were quelling inside of him. He felt like he was on the verge of exploding.

“You know what, Killian? You can be mad at me. You don’t have to forgive me. You’re entitled to whatever. But it’s three in the morning and I really am not in the mood to be berated and yelled at like I’m seventeen again for something that happened four years ago. So, I’m going to hang up before this goes any further. Goodnight.”

When the call ended, Killian picked up his phone and threw it against the wall. It made contact with a loud thud before falling. It bounced three times before laying defeated on the rug. Killian leaned back against the pillows, placing his forearm over his eyes and letting out an angry sigh. He wanted yell, fight, destroy something and cry at all the same time.

“Did that make you feel better?” Emma asked after a moment.

“No,” Killian said hollowly.

“If you shattered your screen again, I’m going to have to kill you. Those things are horrible to replace,” Emma signed.

Killian lifted his arm and look at her with an expression that couldn’t decide if it was perplexed or annoyed. Emma, who had long since learned that her husband was a bit more open with his emotions than she was, took his hand back in hers and gave him a small squeeze.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Killian,” she sighed. “All I can say is thank god she wasn’t pregnant. And fighting with Henry isn’t going to change anything.”

Killian didn’t reply, mainly because he knew she was right. There was absolutely nothing he could do about the situation now, except possibly beat Booth bloody, kill him and then take Nick up on his offer to help hide the body. He couldn’t do that though. His wife would kill him.

The real heart of the issue lay in the betrayal. He was used to the boys keeping things from him. In fact, he had come to expect that from them but Beth? Killian had been certain that nothing could have come between them. They had a relationship that he had been led to believe was based upon openness and honesty. She kept this from him. And apparently all of his children had been in on it. Henry had gotten the test and kept it a secret. Harrison had assaulted the bastard and hadn’t said anything. Idly Killian wondered how Wes had reacted to the news and what his retaliation had been. The sadistic part of Killian hoped it was clever, painful and humiliating.

“Goddamn it, Elizabeth,” Killian muttered under his breath. His heart felt heavy.

“Well, lucky for me, Beth and Will are stopping by tomorrow,” Emma said lightly. “You won’t be a brooding and sulking mess for long, and the screaming match won’t be delayed. It will be nice to have this all out in the air. Just promise me you won’t do it on the front lawn. The neighbors talk about us enough as is.”

“Very funny, Swan,” Killian grumbled before turning to look at her.

He looked his wife in the eye and tried to convey all the emotion that he was feeling that he couldn’t bring himself to express through words; the anger, the betrayal, the fear and, most of all the pain. Physically, Kilian’s back ached, his knuckles were bruised and his knees weren’t what they used to be. But emotionally? He felt as if he had been skinned and covered in salt.

Emma sighed, understanding what he couldn’t say and bringing his hand up to her lips and giving it a kiss. As her mouth brushed against his discolored knuckles, he was reminded of all the times he had done the same action to comfort her.

“She didn’t tell me, Emma. She kept this from me.” The fact kept repeating in the back of his mind like a broken record.

“Of course, she didn’t, Killian. She was a teenager. And that’s such a typical dirtbag teenage thing to do. I can understand you’re hurt, but I’m not surprised,” Emma said, giving him a sad smile.

“We were always so close. I thought she told me everything. She came to me when she got her period. She came to me when she got kissed for the first time. She told me about every single fight she had with her girlfriend or boyfriend at the time. She admitted to me when she got that tattoo underage…” Killian trailed off.

“Maybe that was the problem,” Emma said quietly. “Maybe you were too close…”

“What do you mean?”

Emma was quiet for a while. Killian pulled at their hands, not disconnecting their fingers, but moving them so that their hands over his heart. He waited patiently, allowing her to gather her thoughts.

“I was jealous, you know? Of you and Beth. You two were always as thick as thieves. She looked at you like you were both the sun and the moon. She always followed you around, always went to you, always wanted to be you. Everything was Dad! Dad! Dad! She looked at you like a god. She never saw me that way even though I carried that child for the longest nine months of my life,” Emma said with a harsh swallow.

Killian couldn’t breathe. He wanted to say something but words were failing him.

“I made my peace with it because it was something that was just so pure…I just didn’t want to ruin it or see it ruined…Anyway, that is not the point,” Emma paused for a moment, gathering her bearings. “The point is I’m certain that to this day that there is no one Beth loves more than you Killian, but with that worship…there is a certain need to be perfect, to be worthy of the person you hold so dear. As someone who has lived through a teenage pregnancy, there is a lot of shame to it. Tattoos, drinking, dating, violence, sex. Those are things that be spun as something cool, something to be admired. There’s nothing admirable about being pregnant as a teenager. How do you tell someone you love so much, someone you admire, someone who is your god, that you are in a situation that is surrounded with so much shame?”

“I didn’t want to be her god,” Killian whispered. “I just wanted to be her father.”

“It doesn’t matter. That’s just how it was. You wanted to an explanation of why she didn’t tell and I’m telling you why. She didn’t want to lessen yourself in your eyes. Henry? She loves him, but he’s not you. His disapproval is nothing to compared to yours. That is why she didn’t tell you and she told him, Killian.”

Killian didn’t sleep well that night. The secrets that Henry had unveiled and Emma’s comments kept swimming in his head and they wouldn’t let him go. He spent the majority of the night staring at the ceiling and wondering what else his daughter had kept from him.

Despite the pain, the anger and the disappointment, Killian found it in himself to smile when his daughter and her boyfriend arrived the next morning. Beth, who had spent the last month in the Enchanted Forrest with Will and his parents, looked happy, healthy and incredibly tanned. As a child, Beth had Emma’s lily white complexion, but now she looked just as swarthy as Killian had in his pirate days. It made both her green eyes and the freckles on her face look more pronounced. Her hair now was longer than Emma’s had ever been, but still wild with small braids running through it. She looked more pirate than princess, wearing leather breeches, a silken maroon blouse and a dark corset. It amazed him how as Beth got older, Killian started notice more resemblances that his daughter had with him than his wife.

“Dad!” Beth cried, letting go of Will’s hand and sprinting towards her father.

Killian stepped forward and pulled her into a fierce hug, closing his eyes and he held her close. She smelled like the sea, and a part of him jolted at the scent; there was a small part of him that still longed to be out on the ocean, free from everything.

“Welcome home, Minnow,” Killian murmured against her hair.

“I missed you.” Beth snuggled herself against him, burrowing her face into the crook of his neck as she had since she was a little girl.

“I missed you more,” he replied and it was the truth. No matter what she had done and how much it had hurt him, he still loved her fiercely and ached when she went away. It was hard at times to swallow, but his daughter was nearly grown and out of the nest.

As they pulled a part, Will approached him and held out his hand for Killian to shake.

“Hello Mr. Jones. A pleasure to see you again. It’s been too long. Perhaps next time, you will join us at my parent’s castle. My mother misses you terribly,” Will greeted with a broad grin.

Killian’s first impression of Will was that he smiled too much, but then again, that had been the same thought he had about Will’s mother Ariel when he first met her. Despite the grim circumstances and less than savory outcome of their first meeting, Killian had found Ariel to be determined, unfailingly optimistic and full of energy. Will was the same way. He greatly resembled his mother with his fiery red hair, kind eyes and wide smile. The only thing he seemed to have gotten from his father was his stature and ability to be perfectly content with being driven about by a strong woman.

“No need to call me Mr. Jones, Will,” Killian said good-naturedly. “You can call me Killian. Or even Hook would be more preferred.”

"No can do, sir,” Will said the name like he was testing it on his tongue. “I mean I've always known you as Hook, but my mother taught me better than that. She always loved to tell us about the pirate who fell in love with a princess and would do anything to get back to her, but she would slap me across the face if I called you by your first name. It's just not respectful.”

Killian wouldn’t help the faint blush that rose to his cheeks and Beth laughed.

“I didn’t realize she shared those stories,” Killian muttered as Beth pulled him into a side hug.

“Oh yes. She loves to tell us that any fish-head could be a prince as long as he had someone to love,” Will responded with an amused smile.

Beth laughed even harder and Killian just chuckled.

“Well, Ariel isn’t wrong. Luckily this fish-head got his lady or this marvelous creature wouldn’t be here today,” Killian replied, placing a quick kiss on top of his daughter’s head. “Though, Will, I must apologize though, because I am hoping to steal your lady tonight. You see, my favorite daughter has been gone for a month and we need to have a drink together, pirate to pirate. I hope you’re willing to forgive me.”

“I’m your only daughter,” Beth said with some amusement.

“That just makes you my favorite,” Killian chuckled.

“There’s nothing to forgive. Though I wouldn’t call her mine. She’s her own person, wild and powerful as the sea and no one, not even myself, could give own such a thing. If Beth wants to have a night with her father, she’s more than welcome to have it,” Will replied, taking Beth’s free hand and giving it a kiss.

Beth grinned at Will, affection clear in her eyes.

“You’re sweet and very cheesy,” she said, leaning upwards to give Will a quick kiss.

“I’m yours,” he responded with a fond smile.

Killian desperately hoped this wasn’t what he and his wife looked like when they were making eyes at each other. It was almost too saccharine for him to handle.

The sweet words, constant touching and cuddling continued throughout the entire day. It was almost disturbing to Killian to see his daughter so in sync with another person aside from himself. Will seemed to know whenever Beth wanted something and got it for her without complaints while Beth seemed to sense whenever Will was getting uncomfortable with a subject and would change the direction of the conversation. It made Killian uncomfortable.

And it was only going to get more uncomfortable, Killian knew. He was going to have to confront his daughter when they went for drinks. He just couldn’t keep what he had learned to himself. He needed to her to look him in the eyes and tell him everything.

When the moment came and they arrived at the Rabbit Hole for their drink, Killian made sure to place him and Beth at the furthest end of the bar where no one would over hear them or bother them. Killian met Nick’s eye as they sat down and held up two fingers at him.

“You’re actually allowing me to drink? Nick is actually going to serve me?” Beth asked with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I fail to see why not. You’ve been drinking since you were fifteen. Don’t think I don’t know about that because I do. You’re twenty and the only person who could arrest him for serving someone underage is me,” Killian responded with a shrug.

Nick approached, placing two glasses of rum in front of them.

“Hey Beth, you’re looking tan,” Nick greeted. “I almost didn’t recognize you and thought to myself ‘Who is the poor gorgeous woman with Killian Jones? Is she brain damaged?’”

Killian rolled his eyes, snorting as he picked up his drink.

“Well, you get tan when you spend in an entire month in the Enchanted Forrest and occupy most of the day by being in the water,” Beth laughed.

“Your father says your boyfriend is a merman,” Nick stated with a small grin.

“Did he now?” Beth asked, circling the rim of her glass with her pointer finger. “What else did he say?”

“That he’s not good enough for you,” Nick replied with a shrug.

“The first one is true. Occasionally my boyfriend has fins instead of feet, but he’s more than good enough. Trust me on that,” Beth said, taking a large sip of her rum.

“I’ll take your word for it. Dads tend not to be reliable on that sort of thing. They think no one is good enough for their girls,” Nick chuckled.

“Don’t you have other customers, Nick?” Killian asked archly.

“I do and I also know when I’m being dismissed,” Nick replied smoothly. “I’ll let you have your drinks. Beth, if he gives you any trouble, just give me a shout you hear?”

Nick gave Killian a mocking low bow before turning to serve a gaggle of young women who were sitting at the other end of the bar. Beth shook her hair, smirking a bit.

“Some things never change,” she commented.

“Eh, some things do. Mainly in ways you never expect,” Killian responded rather cryptically.

Beth bit her lip for a moment, looking down at her glass but looking up at her father with a small smile.

“I’m glad we’re doing this. I missed you terribly. Ariel and Eric have a beautiful kingdom, but it’s nothing compared to home. And there was no swordsman I couldn’t beat. No one was as good as me” Beth said, voice filled with pride.

“Ah, well, not many men are taught from age six and have two master swordsmen as teachers. Nor does anyone practice as much as you do. I still get up early and have a jaunt and work on my strikes in the backyard, but it’s not the same without you too….” Killian said with a sad smile. “You and I, we’ve always been close.”

“Yeah, we have,” Beth grinned. “I love that about us.”

And that was a moment that Killian knew that he couldn’t keep what he knew and how he felt to himself. This was the opening. He finished his rum before he spoke.

“Yeah, but you don’t love it enough to tell me about what happened with Booth and that pregnancy scare of yours.”

Beth stiffened, as if someone had casted a freezing spell on her. The only movement was the widening of her eyes. She didn’t move for a good few minutes, but when she did it was to open her mouth. She looked like she was trying to say words but she was put on mute. She swallowed for a moment before finally finding her voice.

“You know?”

“I know,” Killian said before taking her glass of rum and downing it himself. If there was ever a conservation that needed a drink, it was this one.

Beth was still stunned. She didn’t even react to him stealing her glass.

“Did Henry tell you?” She asked in a hushed voice.

“No. Not at first. You should have told Booth you weren’t ever pregnant though, so he didn’t shout out about your dalliance and accuse me of making you get an abortion in front of an entire bar,” Killian replied, vaguely surprised that he was about to keep his tone even.

Beth buried her head in her hands on the bar.

“Shit.” Her voice was slightly muffed by her arms, but Killian could still hear the curse.

“Shit is definitely word for it,” Killian remarked. “There are lot of other words I would use, but we’re kinda in public and I don’t think everyone would appreciate that much salty language.”

“Shit,” Beth repeated, not looking up from her hands.

“Is that all you’re going to say, Elizabeth?”

“What would you like for me to say, Dad?” Beth looking up from her hands. Her face was pale, as if the tan she had gained over the last month had been drained for her face.

“Well, you could start with the fuck you thought you were doing? Why you never said anything? It’s been four years, Elizabeth, four years and you’ve never breathed a word of it to me. Never. I’m more than just your swordplay instructor, I’m your father. You’re supposed to tell me when these happen!” Killian stated, his voice rising with every word.

He slammed his fist down on the bar, causing his daughter to flinch.

“Dad…I…I thought I could handle it,” she whispered

“You were not supposed to be handling it. You were a child. You had no business being around Booth and you certainly had no business thinking you handle that situation alone. I thought we were better than this, Elizabeth. I never thought this would ever happen with you. I thought you smarter than that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said and there were tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to hate me…”

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you,” Killian respond, taking one of her hands and squeezing it hard. “Am I disappointed? Yes. Am I angry? Without a doubt. Am I hurt that my only daughter trust me enough to love her and support her when she needs it? That’s one I feel most of all. I failed you as a father. It’s my job to protect and raise you and to teach you how to manage in this world, and I failed you.”

He had finally given a voice to the emotion that he didn’t want to name. Failure. He had failed her. If he had spent more time being a father rather than an idol to follow, then this situation wouldn’t have happened. She would have told him about Booth and maybe he could have prevented this entire saga from happening.

Beth shook her head violently.

“You didn’t fail me. You didn’t fail me at all. You were the best. You are the best. I fucked up,” Beth said, her voice cracking. Tears were dribbling in earnest down her cheeks.

When Beth was a child, she rarely cried. She screamed to the high heavens and tore things apart like the little human hurricane she was, but rarely did tears come to her eyes. In fact, Killian could count only sixteen instances in her twenty years of life where she had burst into water works. He hated it. There was nothing Killian hated more than the sight of his daughter sobbing. He cupped her face and wiped her tears away with his thumb, brushing gently against the apple of her cheek.

“You’re supposed to fuck up,” Killian said with a sigh. “That’s practically your job as child. You’re supposed to fuck up, but you’re supposed to trust me to teach you and help you fix your fuck up. You don’t trust me enough and for that I’m sorry.”

“But I do trust you…” Beth whispered. “Daddy, I trust you so much.”

“But not enough to let me help you with something like that…”

“How do I fix this?” she asked, almost desperately.

“I’m going to tell you something your mother once told me. Elizabeth, you come to me. I don’t care what it is whether you’re pregnant with a fishstick, murdered someone or whatever. You come to me. And you lean on me. And trust me to be able to help you. We can’t hide things from each other, love. I hoped the daughter that I raised would know that, but apparently you don’t, and that’s my fault. But whatever it is, no matter what, I will help you out because I’m your father and that isn’t a damn thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“I can do that. I can do that, I promise,” Beth said with a brittle smile.

“I want to believe that. I really do,” Killian replied, giving her a fragile grin of his own.

Father and daughter regarded each other for a while as if they were both taking their time to examine the fractures of their relationship. Beth took his hand away from her face and held it in her own. She didn’t lace their fingers together like she normally did.

“Where do we go from here…?” she asked in a shaky voice.

“Well, things are going to take time. That’s just the nature of it, love. But for now, I guess we can talk about how everything is between you and Will, and you can give me heart palpitations when you tell me how much you want to marry him?” Killian said with a sigh.

“I wouldn’t mind marrying him,” she said with a shaky laugh.

“So, it’s that serious?” Killian frowned.

“Dad, I’ve been with Will for year. Of course it’s serious, but I’m not planning on wearing white anytime soon. If he asked I wouldn’t say no,” Beth said with a shrug.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Killian said, filing this information for later. He couldn’t deal with anymore heavy emotions at the moment. “Good to know. It’s just funny. I always joked that you would end up with a pirate, but I think I can handle grandchildren with fins.”

“Don’t think I turn Will into a pirate?” she teased and her smile almost convinced him that she had recovered from their conversation. Almost.

“Elizabeth, you can do anything you set your mind to.”


End file.
